


truth

by orphan_account



Category: Dream Team RPF, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Character Death, Denial of Feelings, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, POV GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), POV Second Person, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Top Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), a whole lot of dirty talk, but it’s a really minor character, dream is mysterious and broody, george is a sweetheart, lapslock, light teasing, slight Hand & Finger Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:53:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25543924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: in which the tale of a man with a mask turns out to be true.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 621





	truth

you’ve heard the story maybe a hundred times, told a hundred different ways by a hundred different people by the time your eighteenth birthday rolls around. the story is always different; sometimes good, sometimes bad, sometimes having a happy ending and sometimes having a tragic one.

very rarely does it sound believable. you’re certain there’s no truth in the tale at all. 

the only consistent thing in these stories is that it always revolves around the man with the white mask. 

they say that he stalks the forests outside the walls of villages. they tell you to never leave the your village at night, for fear that you might encounter this man. they say that he’s the reason miners sent out to the caves inside the forests sometimes never return. 

you think it’s just silly. 

—————

you’re twenty years old and it’s a hot night during the summer when it happens. 

you’d begun to sneak out of the village on the nights you just can’t sleep. it was one of those nights when it was too hot in your small house to sleep, and you couldn’t stop thinking, so you made your way to the hidden crack in the huge stone wall that surrounded your village, and slipped out to your favorite tree, one a little ways into the forest from the wall. 

you were sitting high in the tree, sitting on the branch that was twisted just right so you wouldn’t fall. your head was leaned back, and you were watching the night sky sparkle through the leaves of the tree when you heard it.

footsteps.

you sat up, quieting your breathing so that you could listen.

there; a rustle of leaves and more footsteps. 

you froze, and stupidly, you decided to climb down to see what it was. you kept telling yourself that it might just be an animal, maybe a loose pig or chicken. 

when your boots hit the ground, you crouch down, one hand touching the forest floor and the other on your knee. slowly, you stand, looking around you for what made the noise. out of the corner of your eye, you see a flash of black and green, and you quickly spin in its direction.

there’s nothing there.

you let out the puff of breath you were holding, sighing and running your fingers through your brunet hair and tugging on it slightly. you’re just being paranoid, you tell yourself. it was just a stupid animal. you turn around to head back to your village and slam right into something hard.

you reel back, hand on your head and look up at what you just hit. 

a white mask.

a white mask with two small eye holes and a crudely drawn smiley attached to a tall body, dressed in black and dark green with its head facing down at you. 

you squeak, stumbling back a few steps, and your foot catches on a tree root. the impact your back makes with the ground causes your breath to knock out of you, and as you’re trying to catch it you see the figure begin to move closer to you. you push yourself up onto your elbows, your ankle aching from where it twisted as you fell. 

you know that the figure can see the fear in your eyes and your chest rapidly rising and falling as you begin to panic. the figure, a man, you can see now from the broadness of his shoulders and the way he carries himself, crouches down a few feet from you. 

“who are you?” you ask, and you wince as you hear the waver in your voice. 

he doesn’t respond, just tilts his head slightly, as though he’s curious. maybe you’re imagining that. he’s unreadable.

“what do you want?” you question again, your voice a little clearer. 

he doesn’t answer again, and shuffles closer to you instead. you catch the sparkle of moonlight glinting off of something in his gloved hand. a blade. you make a quiet whimpering noise in your throat and his head straightens up. 

suddenly, there’s a loud noise that you know is coming from the village, and you know that your mother knows you’re gone, and has alerted the village’s golems. the man with the white mask whips his head in the direction of the sound, then turns back to you and for a split second you think he’s going to turn that blade on you too.

to your surprise, he stands, looking down at you still for a moment before turning and disappearing into the dark cover of the trees. 

your eyes follow him and you realize that you’re shivering even though the air is thick with humidity and warmth. you sit up completely, examining your ankle before standing to put weight on it. it aches still, but doesn’t feel broken. you turn to look in the direction the man sprinted off in, and you think you can still see his white mask hidden between the brush. you shake your head, closing your eyes and bringing your hand to your hair and when you look back, it’s gone. 

you think you imagined that, too. 

—————

you haven’t stop thinking of that night ever since it happened. you’ve tried to go back to the tree at night. sometimes your mother stops you. sometimes you make it out there, but you don’t see the man again. 

then your mother dies. 

everything seems slow after that, your small house suddenly too big and too empty without her. you pick up extra work in the village to keep yourself distracted, doing whatever you can to keep the days moving. 

you haven’t tried to leave the village in a long while, but one night the air in your house becomes too suffocating and too lonely, so you make your way to the tree outside the wall.

at the base of the tree, you look up through the leaves at the night sky. you don’t have the energy to climb it as a sudden wave of heaviness crashes over you. you slump against the tree, sliding down it until your ass hits the forest floor and you curl your needs up to your chest and begin to cry. 

you’re not sure how long you sat there with tears flowing freely down your face until you hear a twig snap somewhere to your left. you jerk your head in its direction, but you don’t see anything. you sniffle, and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, clearing some of the wetness away. when you look back up, your breath catches in your throat.

the man with the white mask is standing less than three feet away from you, his hood pulled up over his head. this time, you’re too tired to care. 

“go away,” you mutter, your voice crackly from crying. you set your head in your hands, breathing as deeply as you can to try and calm yourself down. you hear the rustle of clothing and look up once again.

“didn’t you hear me? i said go away,” you say louder. 

he doesn’t move. it’s like he doesn’t hear you.

you stand up, balancing yourself with one hand against the trunk of the tree. the man has inched closer to you, his head tilted, white mask glinting in the low light. the smiley face etched into the mask is starting to give you the creeps. 

“i don’t know who you are or what you want, so please would you just..” your sentence trails off as the man steps even closer to you, lifting one of his hands up. his fingers are long, exposed with the fingerless gloves he has on his hands. you try to back up, but realize that you’ve cornered yourself against the tree. 

you’re not expecting it, so you jump when the man speaks. 

“you’ve been looking for me,” he says. it’s a statement, not a question, and you flush slightly. his voice is deep, and it sounds like he might be smiling even though you can’t see his face. his fingers brush your cheek, wiping away the little bit of wetness that is there. you flinch slightly. 

“why are you crying?” he questions.

“that’s none of your concern,” you spit out, your voice still sounding rough from the tears. his hand lays flat against your cheek now, and you reach up to grab his wrist to pull it away. 

“what are you doing?” you say, sounding slightly scared to your own ears. 

“you’ve been looking for me,” he repeats, “and now i want to know you, but you don’t know who i am?” he says, like it’s a riddle. 

“well, i.. i know of you. the people in m-my village have told me about you. i didn’t think..” you mumble. 

“didn’t think i was real?” he finishes your sentence. “i’m just as real as you are,” he says, and he sounds smug, like he just finished fighting a dozen monsters and won. his hand comes back up to your face, and he tilts your chin up so that your throat is exposed and he turns your head from side to side. an involuntary whimper escapes your lips, and you jerk your face away. he backs up a little. 

“be here tomorrow night,” he tells you, and it sounds like he’s giving you an order rather than asking you. you stare at him for a second before nodding slowly. he steps back again, his head tilted. you catch a tiny glimpse of his eyes behind the small cut-out eye holes, and you think you see green. 

the man turns and begins to walk away, and for the first time you notice the sword strapped across his back. 

—————

you find yourself distracted the entirety of the next day, slightly tired and slightly anxious, the anticipation of tonight stirring throughout your body. when the sun begins to set and sky turns a blueish orange and the people of your village have returned home for the night, you slip out of your secret place in the wall to wait by the tree. 

it seems like days before you finally spot the man heading your way. you know the only reason you see him is because he’s allowing you to, and you get a strange feeling in your belly at that thought. 

the first thing he says is, “do you have a name to go along with your pretty face?” you stare at him incredulously, your eyes slightly wide. you scoff quietly.

“of course i have a name. it’s george,” you reply, still eyeing him. “and you?”

“dream,” he says, and you laugh. surely that can’t be his real name. 

“dream? really?” you smirk, but he just looks at you, that weird smiley face concealing what he’s really thinking. 

“follow me,” he says, then turns and begins to walk deeper into the woods. his pace is quick, and you have to jog to keep up with him, though you’re still behind.

“hey, wait!” you pant, a little out of breath. 

dream twists and turns down little paths in the forest, still diving deeper into it. 

you don’t notice when he comes to a sudden stop, and you slam into his back, almost causing both of you to topple over. you’re thankful that his sword wasn’t strapped to his back this time. he looks at you over his shoulder and though his mask is obscuring his face, you can feel his glare through it. 

“um, sorry..” you say sheepishly. in reply, he just gestures his hand toward something in front of him, and you look up. 

it’s.. a treehouse? 

“this is me,” he says, and starts to climb a makeshift ladder that leads up into the branches holding the little suspended hut. 

“you don’t actually expect me to follow you up there, do you?” you call up to him. he just looks down at you as though that’s exactly what he expects you to do. you huff annoyedly, but grab ahold of the ladder. “this is ridiculous..” you mumble to yourself as you begin to haul yourself up. 

when you make it up into the treehouse, you sit on the ledge of the opening, catching your breath as you look around. dream is kicked back in a blanket that’s strung up between two thick branches. his head is facing you, like he’s examining you, and his mask slightly crooked. his arms are folded behind his head, and you can see tufts of blond hair that curls at the tips peeking out from under his hood. you stare back at him.

“what?” you snap slightly; the feeling of his eyes on you is making your stomach twist. 

he chuckles, and says, “nothing, pretty thing.” you choke on your saliva, feeling your cheeks tinge pink. 

“don’t call me that,” you tell him, your voice stern. 

“oh, why not, pretty thing?” he smirks, swinging in the blanket gently. you can feel that your cheeks are still hot, but you look around once more, seeing random chests and maps and bottles strewn around, the orange glow of a few lanterns placed haphazardly around the treehouse illuminating the room.

“how.. how long have you been out here?” you ask, leaning back on your hands and looking at him. 

“a few years,” he replies quietly. 

“um.. why-“ you start to ask, but he cuts you off. 

“none of your business,” he growls sharply. 

“i- okay, jeez,” you mutter. “bite me, why don’t you.” 

you huff and then say, “well, look, it’s almost morning, and i’m tired, and if you’re gonna be weird and mysterious all night, i’m going to go home.” you stand and turn to begin climbing down the ladder, and suddenly you feel his hand clutching your wrist.

“wait, i’m sorry,” he says. “don’t go just yet.” 

dream lets go of your wrist as you look at him with your brow furrowed, then sit back down on your place on the ledge. “why shouldn’t i?” you say, looking at him and folding your arms across your chest. you see his fingerless-gloved hand come up to his mask and hesitant for a second before he pushes it up and off his head, bring his his hood down with it, his blond hair flopping across his forehead.

he’s handsome, and he looks like he’s your age. his green eyes sparkle in the low light. they’re greener than any plant or flower you’ve ever seen. your breath stops for a second, and you can tell that he likes your reaction. he smirks, his pink lips stretching across his face. you can see a few freckles dotting across his nose. your hands unfold to rest on your thighs and you suck in a short breath.

“oh, um. hi,” you say dumbly, and he laughs. 

“hello,” he smiles. 

all of a sudden, you hear a bell ringing in the distance, signaling morning in your village. you curse silently, and stand quickly.

“i have to go,” you rush out, and before you can climb down the ladder, dream grabs your hand in his. 

“wait, can i see you again?” he asks.

“um.. yeah. yes,” you say, and rush out a quick goodbye.

as your boots hit the ground at the bottom of the ladder, you look up once more to find dream staring back at you, his white smiley face mask tied securely back on. 

“bye, george,” he says, but you don’t hear him. 

you’re already running in the direction of your village, your heart and mind racing in time.

—————

over the next months, as summer fades into fall, you see dream every few nights at his treehouse tucked safely deep into the forest. you learn a lot about him, mostly little things, like his favorite color, his travels, the things he’s collected. he shows you his maps and introduces you to his pet wolf. 

you tell him about how you grew up in that village, and that you’ve never traveled far outside of it. you tell him that you’re afraid of the dark sometimes, and you show him the little weaved bracelet you wear around your right wrist.

he doesn’t tell you why he’s staying in the treehouse. 

—————

“hey, george?” he says one day as you two are studying one of his maps. 

“yeah, dream?” you say distractedly, your eyes still on the map. 

“why were you crying that day by the tree?” he questions, his eyes trained on you through the mask. he hasn’t removed it again since the first day he brought you here, but you long to see his face. you try not to think about why you feel that way. 

“oh,” you murmur softly. “my mother died at the start of summer. i guess i hadn’t really processed it until that night you found me.” 

he’s quiet for a bit before he says, “i understand. i lost my parents when i was just a kid, and i’ve been living out here ever since.” 

you stare at him, and then ask softly, “dream, can i.. can i see your face again?” you can feel the tips of your ears heat up a little as you say it.

he pauses, then says, “sure, pretty thing.” you don’t object to him calling you that this time, but you know it makes you blush a little harder anyways. he slips off his masks as well as his gloves, and makes a “here i am” gesture with his hands. he pokes your cheek, and you giggle a bit, and he laughs. you’ve really grown to like that sound. 

you and dream fall into a comfortable silence as he rolls up the map in front of you and stands. you watch him as he grabs his sword that was leaning against one wall of his treehouse and swings it around a bit, showing off his skills. 

“show off,” you scoff jokingly. 

“ah, you love me,” he shoots back.

“as if,” you say, sitting back on your heels. dream looks at you funny after you say that and comes to crouch in front if you, grasping the hilt of his sword and tilting your chin up to look at him with it. you swallow, your hands suddenly clammy and your mouth dry. 

“you don’t love me, georgie?” he says sadly, pouting a bit. “we are best friends, aren’t we?” he questions. 

“yeah, of c-course we are, dream,” you say, your voice catching slightly. 

“hm,” he smirks, “i don’t think that’s it, now is it?” he uses the hilt of his sword to tilt your chin a little higher, and your hand comes up to grasp his wrist. 

“uh, dream..” you say, but you can hear the embarrassing whimper just under your words. 

“c’mon, pretty thing, tell me how you really feel. you think i don’t notice you staring at me when you think i’m not looking? you blush so pretty and red every time you get caught, always changing the subject to something else so i won’t tease you about it. i’ve noticed, georgie, and you can’t deny that you do it, either,” he says, his voice like honey. the hand that’s not holding his wrist catches his hand where it’s hanging off his knee, and you squeeze his fingers lightly. 

“dream, i..” you trail off. 

“don’t worry, pretty thing, i know how you feel. you’ll be admitting it freely by the time i’m done with you,” he smirks, and you choke a little, looking up at him with your eyes as big as the day/night clock on his wall. 

he leans over you to drop his sword on the table behind you, and gathers both your hands in his big ones to pull you to your feet. his hand comes up to your face, caressing your cheek and gripping your chin. your lips are parted a little, and he slips his thumb into your mouth to press down on your tongue. a humiliating sound bubbles from your throat as his thumb rubs across your tongue gently. 

“pretty thing,” he murmurs, retracting his thumb and hand and leads you to a pile of blankets on the floor near his strung up bed. he pushes your shoulders and you sit, leaning back on your hands and letting your thighs spread slightly. 

“so eager,” dream says teasingly. “you’re so pretty, georgie. i want to kiss you.” 

you nod enthusiastically, unable to speak as you lean forward to meet his lips. he immediately asks for access to your mouth with his tongue, and you let your jaw drop open slightly. as his tongue brushes yours, you let out a low moan. he pulls back, a small string of saliva connecting the two of you. 

“i knew you would taste sweet too. so sweet and pretty for me, right, little thing?” he murmurs, his eyes dark and his smile inviting. you nod again, and he begins to move his hands up your shirt, grazing up your sides. one of his hands brushes your nipple as his other one pinches your other nipple suddenly. you yelp and pull back a little. 

“aw, baby. is that too much for you?” he teases. you feel yourself flush dark; you feel like your face is on fire. 

dream crawls up and settles between your legs, fingers hooking in the waistband of your pants. 

“dream,” you say worriedly. 

“don’t worry, sweet thing. i’ll take care of you. i won’t hurt you,” he promises, and you nod. he tugs your pants all the way off, and your shirt, which is slightly too big for you, falls over your lower half. he groans.

“you’re such a sight for sore eyes, georgie,” he says as he leans in to kiss you again, grinding down gently. you moan into his mouth, your hips bucking up into his clothed ones involuntarily. he pulls back slightly from the kiss. “stay still,” he orders, moving to kiss your jaw and down your neck. you feel him bite the skin between your neck and shoulder, sucking hard before smoothing over it with his tongue. you jolt slightly at the new sensation, and dream lightly smacks the outside of your thigh. you let out a high-pitched whine. “stay. still.” he says again, punctuating each word this time. 

dream reaches behind you for a little glass bottle filled with a clear, viscous-looking liquid. he pops the lid on it, and pours a little onto his hand, and lifts your shirt with the other, holding it just above your naval. you look down to see that your cock is already so hard, leaning against your belly and the tip shiny with pearly liquid. you close your eyes, feeling embarrassed at how fast you hardened and started leaking, and dream wraps his hand around your cock. he spreads the liquid on your hand around the head in circular motions that cause your thighs to squeeze around him. 

“dream, you- i- you need to s-stop or i’m..” you pant, tipping your head back a little. 

“watch my hand, georgie,” he says, and you open your eyes to do so. this is the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced, you think as he speeds up, pressing his fingernail lightly on your slit. you moan loudly at that, your hand scrambling for his wrist. 

“dream! dream, i’m gonna c-come right now if you don’t slow.. slow down, dream, please, please,” you plead quietly, jerking up into his hand. 

he smirks, and speeds up instead, and you feel the heat in your lower belly finally catch fire as your cock twitches and you come all over your tummy and dream’s hand. you’re panting so hard, trying to catch your breath as dream examines his hand. 

“good, georgie?” he says, leaning in to kiss you. you whimper softly and nod, your eyes slipping shut.

“you ready to admit that you love me yet?” he purrs, his hand wrapping around your cock again. your eyes snap open and you jerk, trying to scoot back, to pull your cock from his hand but discover that his other hand has your waist in a tight grip. 

“dream, s-stop, i can’t come again, dream, it’s so sen-sensitive, please..” you say, hiccuping a little. 

“oh, pretty thing, but you can. you will, for me. won’t you try again for me, sweet boy? for dreamy?” he coos. you whine loudly, hyperventilating a little before nodding and gritting your teeth. “good boy,” he says.

dream picks up the bottle again with one hand, releasing your cock with the other and pours a generous amount over his fingers. he grips the back of your thigh with his clean hand, pushing your leg up to your chest. he drops his hand down to circle your hole, and you jump as you feel the cold liquid press against you.

you’re not sure how, but you’re unbelievably hard again, and dream looks unbelievably handsome in the soft, low lighting of his treehouse. 

he slips a finger into you gently, and begins to thrust it slowly. you moan, squeezing your eyes shut and dropping your chin down to your chest. 

“look at me, pretty thing,” he says sweetly. you look up at him through your dark eyelashes and he makes a noise in his throat, his cheeks darkening just a little. “wonder what you’d look like with your pretty red lips around my cock,” he says as if it’s just a normal thing to say in a regular conversation. you whimper softly, the image flashing across your mind as he slips another finger in beside the first. 

“dream, please.. touch me..” you grit out, your hands curled in the blankets beneath you. 

“i don’t think i will, baby,” he smirks and you groan, and feel a little stretch as he adds a third finger. 

“please, please, dream.. i need it, i’m so hard it hurts,” you beg quietly. 

instead of touching you, he pulls his fingers out and you let out a long whimper as they drag across that spot inside you that makes your toes curl. “georgie, turn over, please,” he asks nicely, so you do, tucking your legs under you a little and spreading them.

dream pushes your thighs further apart and you suck in a sharp breath as you hear the rustle of clothes being pushed down. your shirt is shoved up to your chest and you feel dream’s hands on your waist, thumbs pressing into the dimples just above your ass. you hear him slick up his own cock, and feel him rub a little more of the liquid onto your hole. 

“you ready, georgie?” he says, rubbing one hand down the length of your back.

“yeah, yeah, dream. come on, i need it, please,” you whine. he huffs and begins to push in and you groan at the stretch, reaching your hand to rub the tip of your cock. suddenly you feel your wrist that was touching your cock being snatched as well as the other one, and before you can register what’s happening, your cheek thumps against the soft blanket, your back arched and your ass in the air. dream’s cock is all the way in at this point, and he folds your arms across your back, pressing on them with one big hand, causing your back to arch further. 

“dream!!” you squeal, your voice a bit muffled as he starts fucking into you. he picks up speed as he leans over you, shushing you and kissing your shoulder blades. 

“dream, touch me please, it hurts, please touch my c-cock. i wanna come again so bad, so bad, please..” you start to sob as he adds a little more pressure to your arms. 

“oh, you can come all you want, pretty thing, just as soon as i hear what you know i want to hear,” he purrs into your ear, nipping the top of it lightly. you moan, having forgot what exactly it is he wants.

“w-what? dream, i don’t know wh-“ you start to say, but your sentence dissolves into a whimper as he thrusts in so deep you think you feel it in your stomach. you think you might die if you don’t come within the next few seconds. “dream! please, what.. i- please, make me come, make me come, don’t stop, don’t..” his cock stills in the same position, still so deep, and you finally remember what it is he wants. 

“i..” you whimper softly. “i love you, dream, you.. you know that,” you say, starting to hiccup again as tears form in the corners of your eyes. 

“what was that pretty thing?” he says. “speak up if you really want to come that bad,” he smirks. 

“fuck, dream! i love you, i love you, please fuck me, please, i can’t take it, i’m gonna explode, make me come, make me come, i love you,” you babble, the tears starting to leak onto the blanket your cheek is still smushed into. 

“good boy, good sweet boy. so pretty fucked out for me like this, letting me use your body, so long as you get to come, right? well, come on georgie, come for me, come again for dreamy,” he coos, reaching around to grab your cock and circle the tip rapidly. 

you think you hear yourself scream before you black out, slumping down onto the blankets.

when you wake a few seconds later, you’re already turned onto your back and cleaned up, and dream is pulling your shirt over your head and putting his own hooded one on you instead. you groan, your hand coming up to your neck.

“dreamy..” you whimper, and he shushes you softly. “i’m here, george. it’s okay,” he murmurs. “you were so good. i love you too, pretty thing.” you blush at that as dream sweeps you into his arms carries you to his strung-up bed. he sets you down gently and climbs in beside you, and you curl into his warm body, burying your face in his neck. 

“i love you,” you say, your voice muffled in the soft skin of dream’s shoulder. as you drift off to sleep, you hear him say it back.

—————

your first thought when dream wakes you in the morning is that you’ve never been happier for that silly old tale of the man with the white mask to be true.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading my second work! this one is a little shorter than my first, but there will be another work posted in a few days, and leave suggestions for me in the comments if you want, i’m open to anything! hope you enjoy this <3


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